


Sex Arcade: Totally Spies

by gregdonovan



Category: Totally Spies, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, F/F, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Bondage, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-08-05 22:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16375805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gregdonovan/pseuds/gregdonovan
Summary: A fan-fiction created as a commission.Sam, Alex, and Clover awake to find themselves to be the Sex Arcade's newest unlucky Subjects.  An auction is being held to sell the girls to their first clients.





	1. Chapter 1

Totally Spies

 

The beings known as the Founders of the Sex Arcade stood watching as the Mass Quantic Gate powered up in front of them.  The Founders were mostly humanoid in shape. Mostly. They stood closer to seven feet tall than six and their arms and leg were too long in proportion to their bodies.  They had leather gloves covering hands that seemed slightly too big with fingers that were slightly too long. When viewed from behind they might be mistaken for twins who suffered from an unfortunate birth defect or hereditary disease.  Abnormal looking, even tragic, but still human. The white featureless ovals of their faces proved that a lie. The skin on their faces was the white color of marble or sun-bleached bone. Unmarked except for two small slits that stood in for nostrils and a V-shaped notch that indicated their mouths.  When they smiled, as they often did, their red gums and fang-like teeth were displayed in an unnerving manner. They wore dark colored business suits specially tailored to match their abnormal dimensions. Without their more unusual aspects one could almost mistake them for the managers of an important business or corporation, which was what they were, in a fashion.  And, like all good managers, they were there that day to give a fond farewell to a hard-working employee who was about to seek her fortunes elsewhere. 

A massively reinforced bunker door swung open and two muscular women in security uniforms dragged a third women inside.  The trio headed towards the Founders and the circular metal platform that formed the Mass Quantic Gate’s exit and arrival area.  The third woman was wearing simple grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, with her hands cuffed behind her. The guards stopped several feet behind the Founders.  While this occurred, the Founders had ignored the three, standing motionless, watching the Gate power up. The guards gave nervous glances at each other, unsure what to do next but afraid of disturbing the two strange beings in front of them.  They had heard terrifying stories about what happened to people who annoyed the Founders . . .

One of the Founders held up a gloved hand giving a small and dismissive wave.

_ “Remove the cuffs and then you may go, ladies.  My brother and I will handle it from there.” _

The strange voice had not spoken out loud but directly into the guards’ minds.  As far as anyone knew, the Founders never spoke out loud or made any kind of audible noise from their mouths.  The security guards hurriedly unlocked the handcuffs on the third woman’s wrists and scuttled out of the room without a word.  

The freed woman rubbed her wrists where the cuffs had left red marks on her skin while she dully watched the two figures in front of her.  Her red hair hung limp and ragged where it brushed her shoulders. The prominence of her cheekbones and thinness of her wrists were signs she had experienced severe weight loss in the recent past.  A kind-hearted observer would be worried for the woman’s health at seeing that thinness and would suggest a trip to a doctor or an ER was in order; at least until they saw her eyes. Looking into her eyes would not reveal sadness or grief or pain as would be expected, but the almost total lack of any kind of emotion, good or bad.  Upon seeing this the kind-hearted observer would realize that a doctor could not help this woman - she no longer had a spirit willing to be helped. 

A few seconds after the guards left the Mass Quantic Gate activated with a sharp crackle of electricity and a bitter smell of ozone.  A dome of light formed over the circular metal dais that formed the base of the Gate, the light’s harsh glow illuminating the previously dim Gate room.  The Founders stood watching the dome for a few moments, making sure a secure connection between dimensions had been formed. They then turned to look at the woman waiting behind them.  

_ ‘Miss Jean Grey,’  _ the grey-skinned creature on her left said telepathically.   _ ‘ It appears your time with us has come to an end.’ _  The one who spoke idly lifted a gloved hand and gently stroked it down the woman’s face.   _ ‘My brother and I appreciate all the hard work you’ve given our company since you decided to join us five years ago.’ _

“Rape.”  The word was spoken in a monotone, without a hint of emotion. 

_ ‘I beg your pardon?’ _

“I didn’t work here.”  Her dull gaze looked at the Founder’s featureless face where the eyes would be on a human’s.  “I was raped day after day from the first moment you kidnapped me. For years on end.”

_ ‘Well . . . you say potato I say potahto, right?’ _

“Why?”  A tiny hint of emotion began to creep into Jean’s voice with the question.  “Just tell me why.”

_ ‘Regional accents can give the word a different pronunciati-’ _

The Founder to Jean’s right put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.   _ ‘I believe Miss Grey is asking why she was brought to our fine establishment to help satisfy our clients’ needs.’ _

_ ‘Ahh, yes.  My apologies Miss Grey, I simply misunderstood your question.  As to why you were kidnapped; given the unique service we provide we could not simply ask you to join us.  We don’t advertise on Monster.com here!’ _  The Founder’s v-shaped mouth opened exposing his crimson gums and fang shaped teeth in a gruesome parody of a smile.  

“Why run this horrible place at all?”  Jean became more animated, her face growing slightly red.  “What’s the point of it!?”

_ ‘Everyone needs a hobby.’ _

Jean started to speak then stopped.  The little bit of color in her face drained away and she was left looking pale, almost ghost-like.  A tear rolled down her face. 

“What are you going to do with me?”

The left-side Founder twirled a lock of Jean’s ragged red hair around his finger.  He leaned in close and inhaled deeply.  _ ‘Aaah, yes.  Do you smell that delicious despair coming from her, brother?  An intoxicating aroma if ever there was one. Almost addictive in its richness and quality.’   _

_ ‘Yes, a high-quality brew indeed.  Yet I detect a frousty tinge to it; like pure cream just on the cusp of going sour.  I think Miss Grey has found it very taxing to have her psychic powers blocked from her usage.  Like being struck deaf, dumb and blind all at once.’ _

_ ‘Being raped so much probably didn’t help.’ _

“Is that why you do this?  You . . . inhale? You feed off the emotions of the women being abused?  That’s the reason for this place; so you can feed your addiction!”

_ ‘It’s more of a side benefit, to be quite honest,’  _ the left-side Founder said.  He ran a gloved finger along Jean’s lower lip as he spoke.   _ ‘Now, let’s move on to the business at hand.’   _

The right-side Founder spoke next:  _ ‘As you were told when you started working here, Miss Grey, the normal tour of service is ten years for our Subjects.  In your case, given how taxing it has been to have your powers denied to you, we have decided to end your contract at five years.  Rest assured, my brother and I appreciate all the hard work you put in during your time here. _

“And what happens now?”

_ ‘Now we set you free, you lucky girl.’ _

For the first time Jean Grey showed a glimpse of true fear.  “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you? You kidnapped me, you abused me day after day for the last five years . . . now I’m no good to you anymore and you’re going to kill me.”  

She gave a noise halfway between a sob and laugh.  “At least I won’t have to face the people back home.  I couldn’t stand telling someone what I’ve been through in this horrible place.  I couldn’t stand the shame of it, the looks, the way people would treat me. Better to die than face that.”

The right-side Founder placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder.   _ ‘Given her state, I do think it would be more merciful to kill her.  What say you, brother?’ _

The left-side Founder gently set his palm against Jean’s back and pointed at the dome of light hovering over the Mass Quantic Gate Pad.   _ ‘Do you see the light, Jean?  Just walk forward into the light and you shall be set free.’ _

Jean gave a tentative step forward then stopped.  “Just make it quick. And painless. Grant me that little bit of mercy.  Please.”

_ ‘You won’t feel a thing.  Nothing at all, I promise.  Just enter the light and gain your freedom, Miss Grey.’ _

Jean took another tentative step, then slowly walked forward and stopped right at the edge of the Gate.  The dome of light in front of her flickered, like the sea on a windy day. The white glare was almost too bright to look at.  

_ ‘You’re almost there.  One more step and the Arcade will be gone from your life.’ _

She closed her eyes and stepped into the light.

_ ‘Excellent.’ _

 

Jean felt a sense of vertigo, then a coldness and a prickly feeling like static flowing over her body.  She kept walking forward with her eyes closed until the strange feelings stopped and she was hit by a sharp stab of pain.

“Ow!”

She opened her eyes and looked down.  Her shins had connected with a footrest set in the middle of the room she was now standing in.  She looked around, recognizing what she saw. 

“This is the X-Mansion.  This is my room . . . they sent me back home!”

There was a wicker basket sitting on a table next to the footrest her shins had painfully connected with.  She looked inside and saw an assortment of apples, grapes and other types of fruits. There was a card stuck to the basket’s handle.  Jean felt light-headed, almost dizzy as a cold numbness crawled down her spine. They had sent her home after all this time . . . How could she possibly go back to her old life?  

She picked up the card on the basket.  The front said “Sorry To See You Go.” There was a smaller envelope inside, just big enough to fit a gift card, and more writing:

 

“Home again, home again, Jiggety-Jig.

Dear Jean,

It is always a sad day for my brother and I to see one of our hard-working Subjects leave our employ and this day is no different.  Your time with us was shorter than most but it was no less appreciated despite that. In honor of the thousands upon thousands of satisfied clients you are leaving behind, and in recognition of the countless hours of hard work you put in, please accept this fruit basket and a gift card for $25.  

You may have spent most work-hours on your back but that certainly doesn’t mean you were resting.

We will keep your information on file if we decide to extend an offer of employment to you in the future.  It would not be advisable for you to attempt to contact us on your own.

Don’t call us, we’ll call you.

We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours.

The Sex Arcade.

P.S.  Sorry about all the rape.”

 

Jean let the card drop to the table and collapsed into a chair as the strength left her legs.  She lay her head down, cradled in her arms, and began to sob. 

“Damn them . . . goddamn them.  Why did they do this? Why did this happen to me?”  She pounded the table with her fist. “I can’t do this.  I can’t live here, I  _ can’t _ face them . . . this isn’t  _ fair _ .”

She clasped her hands above her head and squeezed her arms against her ears as if she could blot out the outside world.  “Why . . . oh god why!? I don’t understand why this happened to me!” 

Surprised students who heard her crying began running inside her room.  The students stood behind her unsure of what to do as Jean continued sobbing and pounding the table with her fist.  

“Ma'am, are you all right?  Are you lost?” A male student put his hand on Jean’s shoulder and gently shook her.  Jean ignored him. 

“Does anyone recognize her?” the male student asked the others.

“That’s Jean Grey!” 

“That’s impossible, she died five years ago,” the male student replied.  “Someone go get a teacher."

 

The Founders watched the scene through the Gate, gruesome smiles plastered on their eerie faces.  One of them turned to the Gate’s control booth and signaled to the crew inside by drawing a finger across his neck.  The Gate shut down a moment later with a crackle of static and a patter like rain on a tin roof. 

The Founder who had just gestured turned towards the other.   _ ‘I believe you were correct, brother.  Killing her would have been much kinder.’ _  They both laughed inside their minds for long minutes.

The bunker door swung open before them as they walked out of the Gate room.  

_ ‘Shall we go visit Snow White, brother?  She always has the most delightful mix of despair and fear, even after all this time.  It’s quite remarkable she hasn’t collapsed into catatonia.' _

_ ‘I thought there was an issue with Miss White?  She kept begging each client to kill her if they, and I quote, “had the slightest shred of mercy inside them.”  That is fun to watch the first time or two but grows boring very quickly.’ _

_ ‘Oh, don’t worry.  The hostesses put a stop to all that nonsense.’ _

_ ‘I suppose it would be worth  paying her a visit. It must be so hard for such a sweet girl like Snow White, you know.  Snatched away and brought here where awful, awful things happen to her every day. I wonder what she makes of all this?’ _

_ ‘We can ask when we see her, brother.  I’m sure she’ll be happy to talk with us about her feelings.’   _

They continued walking and idly chatting about the various Subjects that had been captured and brought to their facility over the years.  They both paused; a telepathic message was being relayed to them by one of the Arcade’s psychics.

_ ‘Gentlemen, Alpha squad has just returned.’ _

_ ‘They were scheduled to return two days from now.  This better not be a message informing us they have returned empty-handed. _

_ ‘No, sir.’   _ There was a hint of fear in the reply to the Founder’s statement.   _ ‘They have all three of their targets with them.  They simply decided not to wait and risk discovery or losing one of the targets.’ _

_ ‘That is excellent news.  Have the girls sent to Medical for a check-up and processing and all that.  You know the routine by now.’ _

_ ‘At once, sir.’ _

The Founders looked at each other.

_ ‘Sam, Alex and Clover are now in our clutches.  Such delightfully innocent girls about to be introduced to our clients,’  _ the first Founder said with a smile.

_ ‘Right you are, brother.  They didn’t bring back that decrepit old man, did they?’ _

_ ‘I watched the videos sent by our surveillance teams,’  _ the first Founder continued.   _ ‘They are so happy and carefree in their lives.  Concerned with nothing more than being popular at school and helping others.  Hurting them will be like drowning kittens. Yet all my thoughts are occupied with how to crush that happy spirit out of them, until they have nothing left inside but a withered dark husk.  Is it wrong for me to feel this way, brother?’ _

_ ‘Of course not.’ _  The second Founder squeezed his brother’s shoulder reassuringly.  ‘ _ Everyone has these dark feelings in them.  It’s perfectly natural for you to feel this way when you see such happy and bubbly creatures.  You have nothing to be ashamed of!’ _

_ ‘You understand me completely, brother.  However, I did have a thought about the girls I wanted to run by you.  I wanted to shake things up a bit around here, try some new things.’ _

_ ‘This sounds interesting.  What did you have in mind?’ _

_ ‘You know how it goes around here; the Subjects are brought in, we chain them down, the clients line up and do their thing, et cetera, et cetera.  And the next day it’s wash, rinse, repeat.’  _ The Founder gave a bored wave with his hands.   _ ‘The whole thing gets so monotonous.’ _

_ ‘I see your point, brother, but rape is how we keep the lights on.  It’s our bread and butter.’ _

_ ‘Yes, I know.  I’m suggesting we do something different with the spy girls.’   _ The Founder leaned in close to his brother, a hand cupping his mouth as if he were about to whisper.  

_ ‘Let’s hold an auction.’ _

The other Founder gave a happy little clap with his hands.  

_ ‘That sounds wonderful!  I do have some questions about the details.’ _

_ ‘Here’s what I had in mind . . .’ _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Sam shifted against the restraints holding her down.  Sam was a slender and very pretty girl, with long red hair and vivid green eyes.  She’d woken from a troubled and nightmare-filled sleep to find herself bound naked to a restraint chair with her hands chained behind the backrest and straps holding her legs and chest secure. She looked around to see a white-tiled room that looked like a doctor’s office, with a wheeled table holding a tray of specula, dilators and other frightening-looking medical equipment.  There was a woman in a white doctor’s coat sitting in front of her.

“What is this place?  Who are you? ” she demanded of the woman. Sam gave an angry jerk against the shackles around her wrists.  “Where are my clothes!?”

“Allow me to formally welcome you into the employ of the Sex Arcade.  It’s where you’re about to start an exciting new chapter of your life!”

“What the hell is a Sex Arcade?”  Sam flexed her muscles against her restraints again, straining with all her might.  

“The Sex Arcade is an establishment dedicated to offering a unique service to an elite clientele, a unique service not provided by any other business.”  The woman spoke in a formal manner as if she were reciting a memorized script. “It’s my honor to begin processing you into the facility to begin your brand new job.”

“What service?  What job? And where are my friends?” Sam flexed her arms and legs until her face turned red from the strain and her muscles ached with exhaustion.  Her restraints didn’t loosen an inch. “What is going on here, dammit!”

The woman gave a surprisingly sincere smile.  “Don’t worry, your teammates are being processed as we speak.  All three of you will certainly be working together in the future.”  The woman reached over and gently pinched, then twisted Sam’s nipples.  “As for the service you will be providing?”

She suddenly squeezed hard and pulled, her smile growing wider at Sam’s scream.   

“We have sex right in the title.  I think you can figure it out.”

“Stop touching me!”  Sam yelled, tears forming in her green eyes as she continued struggling futilely against the straps.  

 

Clover’s eyes darted across the room looking for a sign of escape, a weapon or tool to free herself, a familiar face, the sight of anything reassuring.  Clover was tall and athletic, eighteen years old - the same age as Sam and Alex - with white skin, blond hair in a bob cut and blue eyes. Was this another test from Jerry?  He wouldn’t strip her naked, would he? There was nothing recognizable in her surroundings. She’d woken up in the same circumstances as Sam - naked, restrained, in a doctor’s examination room, with a woman in a lab-coat in front of her - and had made the same demands and been met with the same answers.   

“All new employees are required to take a survey to identify any useful skills or experiences they may possess.  I will ask you a series of questions and you must answer them truthfully, to the best of your ability,” the lab-coated woman said.  

The woman was as slim as Clover but looked older, around thirty, with dark hair sweeping past her shoulders, currently tied back in a professional looking ponytail.  The woman’s skin was tanned and she wore a dark skirt and blouse beneath the doctor’s coat. Glasses complete the image of a professional woman at work.

“If you’re lying I will know and you will be punished for it.”  She held up a metal wand with two prongs on the end and pushed a button.  An arc of electricity danced between the prongs and emitted a harsh buzzing, along with a blue light and the smell of ozone.  The hostess moved the electric spark closer to Clover and smiled when the bound girl attempted to shift away.

“Let’s begin.”  The woman looked down at a tablet she held in her right hand.  “First; have you ever had sexual intercourse with a man? Clover, remember, the Subject rules require you to answer all of my questions.  A simple yes or no will suffice.”

“Go to Hell.”

“Please, Clover.  Don’t make this process difficult.  Everything will go smoothly if you answer my questions promptly and truthfully.  Answer my question, please.”

The woman waited a few seconds, while Clover remained stubbornly silent.  When it became clear no answer was forthcoming she jabbed the electric wand into Clover’s knee and pushed the button, sending a jolt of electricity up the captive’s leg.  Clover screamed at the burning pain running through her muscles.

“Every time you refuse to answer, and every time you lie, you will receive another jolt.  Again; have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse with a man? Yes or no?”

Clover looked down and mumbled a word.

“Clover, look at me and speak clearly when you answer.”

“No.”

_‘She’s lying’_

The woman heard the telepathic message from the psychic that was monitoring the session.  She jabbed the wand again into Clover’s knee and sent another agonizing jolt up her leg.

“You’re lying and you were punished for it.  We have the means of knowing if you speak the truth and the punishments will grow more painful the more often you lie.  You cannot deceive us, you cannot escape this facility, you cannot do anything but what you are ordered to do and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you.”

“Again I ask; Have you had sex with a man?”

“Yes, I have! What does it matter!?”

“See, that wasn’t difficult was it?  How many men have you engaged in sexual intercourse with?”

“Just the one.”

This time the woman held the wand against Clover’s knee until a smell of burning flesh wafted into the air.

“Three!  I’ve had sex with three men!”  Clover’s voice was growing rough as her screams damaged her vocal cords.  

“Have you ever had sex with a woman?”

“No.”

“Have you ever engaged in a threesome?”

“No.”

“Have you ever given or received oral sex?”

“Yes.”

“Which? Given or received?”

“Given.”

“How many times?”

“Four.”

“A bit disappointing, really.  I’ve found virgins often turn out to be the best at oral since they have no bad habits we have to grind out of them.”

Clover gave a small shudder at the word ‘grind.’

The woman gave a coy smile.  

“I’ll probably be teaching you how to orally please a woman.”  

“Why are you asking me these questions?  Who wants to know this?”

“It’s for the auction, Clover.  We have to know what your selling points are before we can set a starting price.  The Arcade has a reputation for providing quality products at fair prices and we want to preserve it.”

Clover felt a pit open in her stomach.  

“What auction?”

“The auction where we sell you and your teammates to the highest bidder.”

“You  can’t . . . you can’t just sell us.  We’re human beings!”

“No one would buy you if you weren’t.  Bad luck for you.” The woman gave another coy smile.  “Slavery used to be a common practice in every society on this world until relatively recently.  Just think of it as a chance to participate in a long-term and in-depth anthropological study; the clients will be the slave-owner and you will be the slave.  How many young women get that kind of opportunity?”

Clover strained against the straps holding her to the chair.

“Who are you people?  Are you working for Geraldine?”

“As I’ve already told you, your new employer is called the Sex Arcade. No one here has any association with Ms. Geraldine Husk.  However, I have seen pictures taken by our LDE teams; you’ll probably be working with her at our fine establishment at some point in the near future.  You two would make quite the MILF-nanny act, I think.”

“You can’t do this to me.  I will get out of this and you’re going-”

Clover’s threat ended in a scream as the woman jabbed with the electric prod.  

“Making threats violates the Subjects’ rules of behavior.  And trust me; we’ve heard it all before. Nothing you say is going to scare us and every threat will be punished.  Severely.”

She punctuated her warning with another jab of the prod.  Clover screamed and then sobbed as the questioning and torture continued.  

 

Alex had awoken in the same predicament as Sam and Clover.  Alex was a short girl, with black hair in a bob cut, brown eyes and brown skin.  The woman in the doctor’s coat interrogating Alex had introduced herself as Mindy.  Mindy was about 5’ 4”, athletic and almost muscular in appearance, with evenly tanned skin and blonde hair.  She appeared to be in her mid-thirties and had breasts that were too large for her body-type to be natural.

After hearing that Alex was a virgin, Mindy had asked if she and Sam were ‘saving themselves for marriage’ to which Alex answered:

“Yes, Mindy.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.  You two are the good girls of the group aren’t you?” Mindy asked with a friendly smile.  “What about the blonde?”

“Clover is the same way.”

Mindy didn’t hesitate even a second before shoving the electric prod into Alex’s thigh and giving her a long, painful shock.  Alex screamed and squirmed in her restraints.

“That’s for lying to me, sweety.  I ask again; is Clover a virgin, too?”

“No,” Alex said through a sob.  

“How do you know this?”

“She got drunk one night and told us about a guy she had sex with.”

“Clover sounds like quite the wild child, doesn’t she?” Mindy asked.  “I imagine someone’s going to have a lot of fun teaching her to behave properly for the clients.  Back to you; Have you had any sexual experiences beyond kissing?”

Alex looked away, desperate not to answer the embarrassing questions.  

“I’m not going to answer tha-”

There was another jab with the electric prod and another scream from Alex.

“I can keep this up a lot longer than you can, sweety.”

“No!  I haven’t even kissed anyone!”

“That is _soooo_ sweet.  You are just the cutest, oh my gosh.  You were probably dreaming about a huge wedding with a beautiful gown, a hot bath, candles and rose petals . . .  Maybe you’ll get lucky and your first client will let you role-play if you ask him nicely.”

“I can help you with your first kiss.  After all, the Founders do want you trained properly for the auction winners.”  Mindy gave Alex a coy smile and leaned forward to brush Alex’s hair out of her eyes.  She ran a finger along Alex’s bottom lip. She closed her eyes and sent a message to the psychic monitoring the interrogation;

_‘Start giving her the juice.’_

The psychic answered by tweaking the pleasure centers of Mindy’s brain, instead of Alex’s as intended, sending a pulse of warmth through Mindy’s body.  

_‘Naughty girl,’_ Mindy chided the psychic.

Mindy walked over and sat in Alex’s lap with her legs straddling the restraint chair.  She reached around the backrest to where Alex’s hands were shackled and slowly ran her nails up Alex’s forearms, biceps, shoulders and ended by gently twisting Alex’s nipples.  

The psychic began manipulating Alex’s mind until Alex felt an incredible wave of heat pulse through her body, with blood pumping warmth into her cheeks and between her legs.  Her skin felt incredibly sensitive and she felt tingles of pleasure pulsating outwards from wherever Mindy’s nails made contact. She was intensely aware of Mindy’s weight sitting on her thighs.  

Mindy looked her in the eyes and smiled, knowing the effect she was having on the helplessly restrained girl.  She leaned in and gave a series of gentle kisses on Alex’s lips and lightly licked the tip of her nose. She softly bit Alex’s earlobe and whispered:

“So, how is it, sweety?  Did you like your first kiss?  Remember - I can tell if you’re lying.”

Alex stuttered a reply but stopped when Mindy began kissing along her neck.  Alex was breathing heavily and she had to fight to keep from moaning. It _did_ feel good, it felt wonderful, it felt fantastic, it felt _rapturous_ . . . what Mindy was doing felt better than anything Alex had ever felt before.  

But Alex didn’t want it to feel good, she didn’t want to give the kidnappers the satisfaction of knowing she had enjoyed something they had done to her.  One part of her enjoyed the touches and kisses and caresses; another part felt she was complicit in what was happening to her team if she enjoyed what Mindy was doing.  Before she could think on it more Mindy interrupted.

“Sweety, I asked you a question.  The Subject rules of behavior say you have to answer every question asked of you by a Hostess.  Learn that lesson now and save yourself a lot of pain later.”

“I . . . did like it. A little.”

Mindy laughed and squeezed hard on Alex’s nipples, eliciting a scream.  

“It was more than just a little, Alex.”  

She squeezed hard again and then kissed Alex hard when her mouth opened in a scream, Mindy’s tongue forced its way inside the bound girl’s mouth, stroking along Alex’s tongue.

“A girl like you could use a friend like me in a place like this,” Mindy said as she ran her fingers through Alex’s dark hair, staring her in the eyes.  

“Would you like to be my friend, Alex?”  

Alex was acutely aware of the heat from Mindy’s breath and Mindy's body pressed against her own.  Her eyes were growing unfocused as the psychic’s prodding flooded Alex’s body with endorphins, increasing the bound teen’s arousal.  

Before Alex could reply, Mindy covered her mouth with another forceful kiss, this one lasting for several seconds, each second feeling like an eternity.  Alex let out a gasp when the kiss ended.

“Wha-, what abou-, about my friends?” Alex stammered out.

“Your team doesn’t matter anymore.   _You_ don’t matter anymore.  Not really. Not when you’re trapped in this place.  All you need to worry about is how to help yourself. To do that, you need a friend.”  Mindy grabbed Alex’s chin and stared her in the eyes.

“Hostesses are the best friends you can have.”  She gave Alex another quick kiss.

Alex closed her eyes at the sudden tears that had filled them.  She stifled a sob.

“What do I have to do, Mindy?”

Mindy suddenly stood up and backed away, smoothing the white doctor’s coat she was wearing.  

“Right now we have to finish your processing, sweety.  Then there's the auction for you and your teammates. That’s a real big event so I can’t do anything to change it.”  She reached out and lightly squeezed Alex’s throat, her hand acting like a living collar.

“When all that’s done we can talk about what I expect from you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
“Please . . . please, I can’t do it.  I just can’t,” Sam pleaded, sobbing and crying.  
  
“I honestly thought you’d be better at this, darling.  I’m not sure why.  You just have that look some women have, that look that says you’d be a natural at blowjobs.  Teaches me never to assume nothing.”    
  
The woman that had just spoken had introduced herself as Roxy the previous day. She was the same woman that had led Sam through the uncomfortable processing that Sam was forced through after her interrogation.  She was about 5’ 6”, with white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes.  Like every other woman Sam had seen working for the Arcade - this nightmare she had fallen into - Roxy was very fit and attractive, with breasts that were obviously surgically enhanced.  Roxy had changed from the grey jumpsuit she had worn yesterday while cleaning Sam and now wore purple shorts and a gray hoodie that featured a plunging neckline intended to give Sam an enticing view of Roxy's ample cleavage.  A view that was currently lost on Sam.       
  
“It’s always easier to get ‘em before they’re saddle-broken, but nobody ever said it would be easy breaking them in,” Roxy said with a sigh and a resigned shake of her head.  
  
     
****  
  
  
After an interrogation that seemed to last forever the previous day, a metal collar had been padlocked around Sam’s throat and she had been freed from the chair with her hands left locked behind her.  She was then led away by a leash clipped to her collar.  A group of two female orderlies and two female guards took her to a shower stall, where her hands had been chained to a ring in the wall above her head.  Sam had tried punching at her captors the moment her hands were released to move them from her back to her front, but an agonizing shock from a guard’s electric prod interrupted that idea.  
  
Once Sam was secure, the orderlies had turned on the water nozzle and drenched her with a stinging spray of water so cold it made her teeth chatter.  Then she was scrubbed from head to toe with stiff brushes and a harsh detergent mixed with antiseptic chemicals that made her eyes burn. Her hair had been cleaned with the same detergent and then roughly dried with a hair dryer.  The cleaning left Sam’s skin pink and raw, slightly painful to the touch; she was reminded of a sunburn she’d received after falling asleep at the beach.  After that had been an embarrassing enema and a bitter liquid medicine that had purged her stomach and entire digestive system.    
  
“Going forward, the food you eat will be soft and residue free,” an orderly told Sam.  “These cleansings will only be required on special occasions.”  
  
“Why?  What are they for?” Sam had asked, pale and weak from the cleansing.  The taste of the bitter medicine still lingered in her mouth and she grimaced as she kept swallowing to remove the foul flavor.  
  
“For the clients, silly.  Everything we do to you is for the clients,” the orderly said with a slight smile.  This was the first emotion Sam had seen from any of the women involved with cleaning her.    
  
Every attempt by Sam to interfere with the process had been met with a painful shock from one of the security guards and a barked command to “Stop Resisting!”    
  
After she stopped physically resisting she continued verbally berating her captors.  This had lasted for several long, expletive-laden tirades, and then a large red ball-gag had been shoved in her mouth followed by the longest electric shock Sam would receive that day.  From then on she was a mute witness to the orderlies’ work.    
  
After the cleansing, she was led naked, her hands shackled again behind her, into a cafeteria filled with metal tables and forced to sit down.  Her seat was a metal stool with no backrest, freezing to her bare backside, attached to the table by a metal bar.  Her collar had been secured to a ring on the table with a chain and padlock.  Sam’s teeth chattered as she looked around, still cold from the shower.  She saw other women sitting at tables around her, their collars locked down just like her with orderlies watching over them.  She looked for her friends but she could see no sign of them.  Her cheeks glowed red from embarrassment at her nudity but no one else seemed to care or even notice.  Sam looked closer and she saw several women sitting at the tables naked like her, while others were dressed in simple jumpsuits or sweatpants and t-shirts.    
  
What did those women have to do to earn the right to wear clothing? Sam thought with a shudder.  
  
Sam jumped when a guard rapped her electric prod on the table in front of her.    
  
“Eyes down and focused on the table in front of you.  Food will be brought in a moment; you will have five minutes to eat and drink everything.  If you talk, look around or cause any trouble, you will not eat and you will be punished.”    
  
An orderly walked up and set a bowl in front of Sam, then a clear plastic cup with a straw.  The bowl was small and made of red plastic, filled with something that looked like oatmeal while the cup had what appeared to be water inside.    
  
“You will now eat.  You have five minutes.”  
  
Sam thought about refusing to eat or cursing the guards but the painful burn marks left by the electric prods after several particularly lengthy shocks put the thought out of her head.  She flexed her arms, pulling at the restraints around her wrists and then looked up at an orderly, expecting her hands to be freed.  
  
“Eyes on the table!”    
  
The guard punctuated the warning by holding her buzzing prod near Sam’s ear.  Sam flinched away and hastily turned her gaze back down to the table.    
  
“You will not be given utensils until we know you can be trusted with them.  You now have four minutes.”    
  
“How am I supposed to eat?” Sam asked, flexing her bound hands again, while carefully keeping her eyes on the bowl of food.    
  
“With your mouth.  This is your last warning; if you speak or disobey again, the food will be taken away and you will be punished.”  
  
Sam paused for a moment, then took a sip of water to from the straw to buy time to think.  Did they really expect her to mash her face into the bowl like a child?  
  
“You have three minutes.”  
  
With no other choice, Sam accepted the inevitable.  She closed her eyes and leaned forward with her mouth open and began to messily lick and suck the contents of the bowl into her mouth.  The food was bland, almost tasteless; neither sweet or bitter, with a texture slightly bumpy and thicker than oatmeal.  It didn’t take her long to eat everything.   
  
“You have one minute.”  
  
Sam quickly gulped down the water in the cup and sat back, her gaze still carefully centered on the table in front of her.  She could feel the food she had eaten smeared all over her cheeks and dribbling down her chin to plop onto her naked breasts.  Without thinking, she tried to bring her hands up to wipe her face, forgetting about the shackles.    
  
“Stop resisting!”  The guard punctuated her command with another agonizing shock, this time jabbing Sam on her left elbow.    
  
Sam screamed, her voice almost gone after the damage done to her vocal cords from previous screams.  The shock had traveled up her arm making it convulse uncontrollably; her wrists wrenched against the shackles, deepening the bruises that were already present.    
  
Sam sniffed, tears rolling down her face, and she concentrated on not sobbing from the pain.  She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break down and cry.    
  
The other guard grabbed her comrade who had just shocked Sam.  “A little easy on the trigger, sister.  Management is going to be pissed if we scratch the merchandise too much.”  
  
Sam bitterly reflected that ‘merchandise’ was all she was to these people.    
  
An orderly took the bowl and cup away, while one of Sam’s watchers wiped her clean with a wet-wipe.  The woman smiled at Sam as she finished Sam’s face then used a new wipe for the bound teen’s breasts, her hands lingering and pinching more than necessary.    
  
“All clean.”  The orderly gently kissed the top of Sam’s red hair.    
  
Sam was unlocked from the table and roughly yanked to her feet.  A leash was clipped to her metal collar and she was forced to move with a strong tug and a hard slap to the ass by one of her minders.  None of the other women - ‘Subjects’ was what Sam had heard them called - dared to even glance at her as she was led away from the cafeteria.    
  
She was led through white-tiled corridors then brought inside another examination room.  Sam was brought to a corner of the room.  
  
“Face the wall,” one of Sam’s guards ordered.  
  
Sam turned and a chain was padlocked to her collar, then padlocked to a ring on the floor.  One of the orderlies - ‘hostesses’ Sam had heard them called, she might as well get their names straight in her head - moved behind Sam and put her hands on Sam’s shoulders.  It was the same woman that had cleaned Sam in the cafeteria.  She looked to be in her mid-thirties, slightly shorter than Sam and more muscular, with toned arms and legs. Her hair was blonde and currently collected in a simple ponytail.  Her skin was tanned and supple.   
  
“I’m going to release your hands in a moment.”  The hostess massaged Sam’s shoulders as she spoke.  “Don’t do anything stupid.  Just put your palms on the wall and relax for a moment.  Got it?”  She squeezed Sam’s shoulders and waited for a response.    
  
“Yes, ma'am.”  Sam hated being polite even though this small act of kindness had her knees weak and her cheeks feeling warm. She felt an absurd amount of gratitude to the woman behind her.  But deep inside she suspected she was being played.  The brutality from the guards and then the kindness from the hostess seemed like a rehearsed ploy to break down Sam's resistance.  Sam knew the older woman something but she was too scared and too inexperienced to know exactly what.  With no other choice for the moment Sam would play the obedient little girl and try to learn something useful.  
  
“I knew you were a smart girl.  My name is Roxy, by the way.”  The hostess gave a tight squeeze to Sam’s buttocks and then unlocked the shackles.    
Sam paused, keeping her hands behind her, struck by a sudden urge to hit back, to punch, to kick, to slam her head backwards against the woman touching her; she tensed for a split-second, but then relaxed.  She obediently placed her palms against the wall in front of her above her head.  She was naked, locked to the floor by her collar, alone and surrounded by her captors.  Any type of resistance would be hopeless.    
  
“You scared me for a moment, darling,” Roxy said.  “Just relax for a second.”  She moved in and pressed up close against Sam’s back, her body heat radiating through the hoodie and shorts she wore.  Roxy rubbed her bare knee down Sam's left thigh, while she ran her right hand up the inside of Sam's right leg.    
  
“Relax and enjoy the ride.”    
  
Roxy began running her fingers through Sam’s hair, her fingernails lightly scratching the red-haired teen’s scalp.  Her other arm snaked around Sam’s waist and pulled the teen tight up against her, the hostess’ large breasts squashed between the two.  Sam smelled a faint whiff of shampoo and soap as a tingle moved up her spine.    
  
Roxy put her mouth against Sam’s ear and spoke while her hands roamed up and down.   
  
“Things look pretty bad right now, darling,” she whispered with a Southern drawl.  “And to be honest, they are.  Girls like you get used up by this place.  Used up and tossed out like dirty laundry when they’re no good to us anymore.”  Sam shuddered for a moment and the hostess pulled her even tighter against herself.  
  
“But I can help you.  You just have to be my friend.”  The hostess ran her tongue along Sam’s ear.  “Not just study buddies or gossip girls; we have to be very _close_ friends.”  She reached up and squeezed Sam’s breasts.  “What do you think?  Would you like to be my friend?”  
  
Sam felt a sudden, intense rush of friendliness towards Roxy.  After the horrible events of the last few hours - the torture, the interrogation, the cleansing, the embarrassment of being paraded naked through the facility, being isolated from her friends - she had a desperate need for any kind of compassion.  Even though the woman was one of those who had inflicted the depredations on Sam, the kidnapped teen almost broke down and begged Roxy for help right then and there.    
  
Almost.  
  
“What about my friends?”  
  
“I prefer having closer relationships with fewer people.”  The hostess ran her nails up the side of Sam’s ribcage.  Sam shivered and reflexively tried to jerk her body away, but Roxy kept a tight hold with an arm around Sam’s waist.    
  
“Just me and you, darling.  What do you say?”  
  
“If you can’t help my friends then I’m not interested in helping you get through your mid-life crisis.”  
  
Sam braced herself.  She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them but there was no going back now.  Her punishment was going to _hurt_. . .  
  
Roxy gave an amused sigh.    
  
“I like that spunk in you, darling.  It’s always fun watching the feisty ones get the wildling beat out of ‘em.”  She stepped away and gave Sam’s ass a sharp, painful slap.  “If you call me middle-aged again, I’ll make you sorry you were born.  We’ll come back to my offer later, once you’ve had some time to settle to your new job.  I’m one of your assigned handlers so we’ll be seeing each other every single day.”    
  
“Let’s begin the next stage of processing,” the hostess continued.  “We are now going to test your level of physical fitness.  You will be given orders to perform physical exercises and you are require-”  
  
“No.”  
  
“What?”  Roxy seemed amused again by this second act of defiance from Sam.  
  
“I’m not cooperating with you anymore.”  Sam whirled around, her hands clenched into fists, face flushed, heart pounding and ready to fight.  She knew what she was doing was pointless.  Even if she somehow freed herself and got out of the room she had no idea where to go.  But she was done taking orders.  
  
“Where are my friends?  Where are my clothes!?”  Sam advanced as far as the cable locked to the floor would let her; a distance of about a meter.  “I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not taking orde-”  
  
Sam collapsed, falling limp and motionless to the ground.     
  
Roxy put the small dart gun back into its holster on the right side of her jumpsuit.  She walked over and flipped Sam until she was lying on her back, face up, limbs motionless and eyes darting everywhere in terror.  Sam couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream . . . but she was completely conscious of everything happening to her.  This was far more terrifying than anything else she had experienced so far that day.    
  
A horrifying thought struck her: what if this was _permanent?_ No, they wouldn’t.  They wanted her alive and well.  But everybody makes mistakes . . .  
  
“I gave you a freebie for that sass about my age, darlin,” Roxy said while plucking the tranquilizer dart from where it poked out of Sam’s stomach.  “You’re new and don’t know the rules yet.  But I’m not going to let this slide.  Uh-uh, no way, no how.”  She held her fingers against Sam’s neck for a few seconds to check the drugged teen’s pulse.    
  
“But punishment will have to wait till tomorrow.  We’re not allowed to hurt you gals too much in one day.  The Founders don’t want you breaking _too_ fast; that wouldn’t be no fun.”    
  
Roxy motioned to the guards and the other hostess.  “Get a stretcher and let’s take her to her cell.  This sassy little mustang’s done for the day.”  
  
Sam could feel her body slowly starting to move again by the time they arrived at what would be Sam’s new home for the foreseeable future.  They roughly hauled her off the stretcher and slung her on a simple metal bunk with a thin mattress. Her collar was chained to an eye-bolt in the floor.  The bunk was pressed against the wall on one side and there was barely a foot of space between it and the wall on the other.  There was a metal toilet in a semi-recessed cubby next to the head of the bunk and a tiny sink someone would have to squeeze past to get to the toilet.  The door was solid metal, with padding on the inside, with a slot to insert food trays and a window that could be used to observe inside.  The window was made of thick security glass and covered by a shutter from the outside.  The Arcade sometimes punished their Subjects by keeping their cells in total darkness for days at a time and they were constructed to allow no external light to leak inside.     
  
The cell was also designed to prevent an occupant from harming herself.  The walls were padded to keep an unruly or unwell prisoner from bashing themselves to death against a hard wall.  The metal bunk was solidly bolted to the floor, with all edges carefully rounded and padded so no sharp corners could be used to gouge or scratch a pretty face - thereby ruining its value to the clients.  The mattress, blanket, and pillow were attached to the bunk and made of fabric too strong to be ripped or torn.  There was nowhere to hang a noose in the cell but the Arcade preferred not to take chances.  The toilet and sink were made of metal, not porcelain, so they couldn’t be broken to produce sharp fragments to slash wrists or necks.  The Sex Arcade spent a lot of effort and money to bring unlucky girls like Sam to their establishment; they didn’t want a little thing like suicide depriving them of a valuable asset.    
  
Roxy sat down on the bunk and ran her hand up Sam’s thigh.  “I’m gonna give a paddling to that cute little ass of yours in the morning, darling.”  Her hand wandered back down to Sam’s knee.  “We can’t have a Subject mouthing off to the Arcade employees - that’s not an example we want to set for the other girls working here, no way,” she said with a frown.  
  
She bent down and licked the tears off Sam’s cheeks.  “Mmmm.  After that’s over we get to start your training.”  Roxy remained bent over, her warm breath splashing over Sam’s mouth, filling her nose with a scent of cinnamon.     
  
“And then we’ll see if you’ve reconsidered my offer. Now it’s time to make sure you get your rest.  You’re gonna need it for tomorrow; you got a busy day ahead of you.  Tomorrow and every day for the next decade.”    
  
Sam stirred, panic shooting through her.  A decade?    
  
“I guess this is the first you’ve heard about your length of time here.  Don’t you fret about it.  You’ll be surprised how quick you get used to this place.”    
  
“Naghh.”  Sam tried to deny it, tried to scream but a garbled mess was all she could force out through the drug that still paralyzed her muscles.    
  
“Who knows?”  Roxy mused.  “Maybe you’ll like this place so much you’ll want to stay when your time comes to leave?”    
  
She smiled and pulled a hypodermic needle and a small vial of a sedative from a pocket on her jumpsuit.  She carefully selected a vein on Sam’s left arm, swabbing the area clean with an alcohol wipe.  She then carefully extracted a small amount of sedative into the needle then filled the rest of the chamber with IV fluid.  Roxy gently inserted the needle into Sam’s arm and slowly pushed the plunger to the bottom until all the liquid inside the chamber was injected.  She leaned down and gave Sam a gentle kiss on the forehead, lightly running her hand down the drugged girl’s cheek.    
  
Sam felt a warmth flooding up her arm and spreading through her body.  The little control she had regained over her muscles fled once more and the room began to grow dark, a cloud filling her vision.  The last thing she saw was Roxy looking down at her, smiling like the cat that caught the canary.  
  
“Sweet dreams, darling.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
Sam woke up some time during her rest period, with her body sore from the punishments of yesterday.  Her cell was partially lit by a light in the ceiling that was protected behind thick armored glass.  She had no idea what time it was and there was no clock in the cell, no way to indicate if it was day or night outside the building she was being kept inside.  This inability to tell the time was a well-worn tactic used by the Arcade, designed to keep the Subjects off-balance and wear down their resistance.  Sam wearily stood up and used the toilet and washed her hands afterwards.  She sat down on her bunk and stared at the walls, wondering if what was happening to her was actually real.  How could her life have gone from normal and in less than a day transform into this nightmare she was trapped inside.  This had to be a bad dream, didn’t it?  
  
When it was time for Sam’s breakfast, Roxy proved to be as good as her word.  With a sudden grinding of a metal door sliding on rails Sam’s cell was slid open letting the bright light in the corridor flood the cell.  Sam squinted against the sudden brightness and looked to see that Roxy stood there, wide grin on her face, holding a pair of handcuffs and a short leather leash.  
  
“Sleep well, little spitfire?”  The light flooding in seem to give the hostess a glowing halo around her head.  Was this woman really the person that Sam would have to rely on for help in this nightmare she was trapped inside?  
  
Two guards stood behind Roxy ready to intervene if Sam tried to resist.  Sam’s hands were cuffed behind her, the leash was snapped to the collar locked on her throat and she was led to a shower area where a quicker and less painful version of the scrubbing she’d undergone yesterday took place.  Roxy used a towel to dry Sam, her hands rubbing and groping Sam’s sensitive areas through the thick cotton as she worked.    
  
There followed a quick breakfast of the same gruel from yesterday that Sam was forced to messily slurp up without her hands.  Another quick cleaning followed and then Sam was led to a room for her ‘training’ and punishment.  
  
“Lay down here, darling.”  Roxy gave two knocks on a padded bench shaped like a triangle with a rounded top and yanked on Sam’s leash.  “Head near the floor and ass on top.”   
  
“For what?  What is that?”  Sam dug her feet in and resisted Roxy’s pull.  
  
“You’re defying my orders again.  That’s another punishment added to what you already owe.”    
  
Roxy nodded to the guards behind Sam and they grabbed the teen by her arms.  Sam was roughly shoved belly down on the bench with her head and feet left dangling above the floor on opposite sides.  Straps were pulled tight across her body to prevent movement.    
  
“This is called a spanking bench,” Roxy said.  She squeezed one of Sam’s buttocks as she talked, feeling the muscle underneath the thin layer of soft tissue.    
  
“I was going to use a paddle on this tight little apple-bottom of yours.”  She squeezed the other buttock.  “But after that bit of defiance you just gave me I think I’ll upgrade to one of the canes.”  
  
Roxy walked away and came back holding a thin rattan cane.  The cane was about as thick as her pinky and had a rubber handle.  She flexed it in her hands, testing its strength.  She rested it on Sam’s buttocks and pressed down till the skin underneath dimpled from the pressure.    
  
“I think I’ll give you five.”  Roxy rubbed the cane back and forth, leaving a red line on Sam’s pale buttocks.  “It’s your first punishment so I’ll go a little easy.  You ready, darling?”  
  
“Ready for wha-”  
  
_WACK_  
  
“Ready for that.”  Roxy lightly ran her nails over the mark the cane left behind on Sam’s buttocks and smiled at her screams.  “Four more to go, red.”  
  
“Stop, please I’ll be goo-”  
  
_WACK WACK_  
  
Roxy slapped her bare hand down on the cane marks.  She threw her head back and laughed at the screams filling the room.    
  
“I think this is going very well, don’t you?  Just two more.”  Roxy pressed the cane down into Sam’s flesh again, hard enough to bend the cane into a U shape.    
“Stop it, please, just stop-”  
  
_WACK_  
  
“You’re very pretty when you beg, little spitfire.  I think I’ll punish you more often.”  Roxy leaned over the bench, draping herself over Sam’s back, her pelvis resting on Sam’s buttocks.  She ran her hand through Sam’s hair and licked the shell of her ear.  “One more.  Just one teeny little one.  Then we start training you for the auction.”  
  
Roxy pushed herself up and flexed the cane in her hands, slowly walking a circle around the bench.  Sam moved her head to watch as best she could.  Roxy ran the tip of the cane up Sam’s back, over Sam’s handcuffs, and came to a rest on her left buttock.  Roxy pushed the point until the cane began to flex once more.  
  
“One, teeny, tiny little one, little spitfire.  Then we’re done with your punishment.  For today.  Whether there will be more to come tomorrow depends on you.”  
  
“Please.  I’ve learned my lesson.  Please, ma’am.”  Sam shifted on the bench, her position making blood pool in her face.  The marks from the caning sent jagged pulses of pain searing up her back and down her thighs, as tears dripped onto the floor.    
  
“Oh, now you’re talking to me all proper!  If only you had done that sooner.”  Roxy put the tip of the cane on Sam’s other buttock and pressed down.  “We wouldn’t be in this position.   _C’est La vie._ ”  
  
“Just . . . just do it and get it over wi-  
  
WACK WACK  
  
“Oops, I think I gave you an extra one by mistake.  Oh, silly, silly me.”  Roxy gave an exaggerated sigh and tossed the cane over her shoulder to clatter on the floor as Sam quietly cried.  Roxy ran her hands over Sam’s bruised flesh admiring the red marks that had been carved into it.  She grabbed both buttocks in her hands to give one final squeeze and ended her inspection with an open-palmed slap on both cheeks, laughing at Sam’s pain.   
  
“Those should bruise up nicely.  You won’t be forgetting this for a long time.”  Roxy leaned down and yanked Sam’s head up. “Make sure you don’t forget, little spitfire.  The punishments get a lot worse from here on out.”  
  
Her fun over, Roxy slid on a pair of latex gloves and squeezed a gel onto her fingers from a tube she pulled from her pocket, then began rubbing it into Sam’s cane marks.  The gel gave off an antiseptic smell but it had a cooling effect, numbing Sam’s skin and blocking most of the pain.    
  
“This gel will keep you from getting an infection and will help with the pain.”  Roxy kept kneading and groping the flesh beneath her hands long after the gel had been thoroughly rubbed in.  “If you keep disobeying, I’ll dump a bucket of salt water on your ass after our next punishment session.  Now, time for your training to begin.”  
  
Roxy unbuckled the straps holding Sam to the spanking bench and motioned to the guards.  The guards grabbed Sam and dragged her until she was kneeling on the floor, facing the wall.  Roxy walked over with something in her hands, a big smile on her face.  With a sudden slap of her fist she slammed the object against the wall where it stuck, held fast by suction cups on its base.  Sam realized with horror the object was a bright red dildo, shaped like an erect penis six inches long, its tip hovering just an inch in front of her mouth.  
  
“Time to work on overcoming your gag reflex, darlin’” Roxy said.  “We’ll start with something small and work your way up to the big ones.”  
  
“I can’t do this.”  Sam’s eyes were wide with shock and fear at the thought of putting that . . . _thing_ in her mouth.  It was even worse imagining what it would be like with a real penis.  
  
“Sure you can!  Just start with the tip and work your way up.  You can go slow.  You got all day to practice.  You’ll be a cock-sucking machine by the time your auction comes up!”  
  
“Please, I can’t.”  
  
“Darling, you have two choices.  The dildo or the spanking bench.  Pick one.  Kind of like ‘The Lady and The Tiger’ but with dildos.”  Roxy laughed.    
  
“Please . . . please, I can’t do it.  I just can’t,” Sam pleaded, sobbing and crying.  
  
“I honestly thought you’d be better at this, darling.  I’m not sure why.  You just have that look some women have, that look that says you’d be a natural at blowjobs.  Teaches me never to assume nothing.”    
  
“Take her back to the bench,” Roxy told the guards.  
  
“No!  I’ll do it!  I will, I swear it,” Sam yelled with tears running down her face.  
  
“Fear is such a wonderful motivator,” Roxy said with a triumphant smile.   
  
“I’ll hold your hair.”  Roxy gathered Sam’s hair into an impromptu ponytail and held it with one hand.  “Now, just open your mouth and slide the dildo inside.  That’s a good Subject.”  
  
Stifling several sobs Sam reluctantly opened her mouth just enough to take the very tip of the dildo inside her mouth, holding it for a moment and then yanking her head back.    
  
Roxy yanked Sam’s hair back, forcing her face up.  “Girly, we are not going to spend all day watching you suck this thing an inch at a time.  Spread your mouth wide, slide the dildo in there and bob your head back and forth.  It’s easy.  Just mind your teeth or the clients will be filing complaints and you _don’t_ want that.”  
  
Sam stretched her mouth open no bigger than her first try, earning a slap from Roxy.  
  
“Wider, damnit!  I'm going to strap a ring-gag in your yap if you keep screwing around.”  
  
Sam stretched her mouth open until she heard her jaw bones pop and then slowly took the dildo into her mouth.  Roxy suddenly shoved the back of Sam’s head, pushing until Sam gagged and choked.  
  
“Move faster, darling.”  Roxy held fast to Sam’s head as the teen’s face turned red, the dildo cutting off her breathing.  “You ain’t getting to spend an entire shift with one blowjob, so you need to learn to pump ‘em and dump ‘em and move on to the next.  Time is money in the blowjob-giving business.”  
  
She held Sam until the teen’s face matched her red hair, then released.  Sam bounced back, hacking and spitting as she gasped for air.  The dildo now had a shiny coating of saliva covering half its length with a thick ribbon of drool connecting the tip with Sam’s mouth.  Sam broke the ribbon with a quick jerk of her head, a look of disgust on her face.    
  
Roxy waited until Sam’s face was only semi-red then yanked her hair back again.  “How was it, darling?”  
  
“No more . . . please no more.”  Sam sobbed and cried.    
  
“HA!  You should already know saying please is never going to get me to go easy, girl.  Just get that in your head right now and save us both the trouble.   Although . . .”  Roxy thought for a moment with a sly smile on her face.  “You sure look cute when you’re begging for your life.  And, about half the clients pay extra for a girl that can beg convincingly.  Maybe you should keep begging.  Keep yourself in practice.”  
  
“Oh my god!  Who are you people?”  Sam said, a look of utter horror twisting her pretty features into something ugly and inhuman.    
  
Roxy slapped Sam again.  “Who we are doesn’t matter.  What matters is that we own your ass and you had best get with the program, missy.  Now, back to your training.  This time you’re going to hold it in your mouth a little longer.  Open your mouth, take a deep breath,” Roxy mimed breathing in, “and let’s begin.  This time I want you to coat the entire dildo with your spit.  That will make it slide in your mouth easier.”    
  
Sam was again shoved onto the dildo until she was gagging and choking, her eyes tearing up from the abuse.    
  
Roxy pulled Sam back, smiling.  “This is going pretty well, all things considered.”  She shoved Sam on the dildo and began bobbing her head back and forth.  “I wonder how your friends are doing?”  
  
Sam continued crying and choking as the training continued, seemingly without end.  


	4. Chapter 4

The metal door loomed ominously in front of Alex, painted an inky black and studded with large cast-iron rivets.  The word ‘Dungeon’ was engraved into the middle, just below the outline of a whip and handcuffs crossed to make an ‘X.’  The door lacked a handle or keyhole and had no obvious means for someone to open it.

Alex was currently restrained by a bolero straitjacket made from supple and strong black leather.  There were two sleeves with closed ends that connected across her shoulders and upper back. Her arms were crossed behind her back and straps at the ends of the sleeves were wrapped across her stomach, around her back again and then buckled together in front of her, with the buckle secured with a padlock.  A black leather bondage belt with several chrome O-rings spaced around its circumference was secured to her waist with a buckle and another padlock. Besides the straitjacket and belt her only other article of clothing was her chrome metal collar with a small ring in the front to attach a leash. The collar was also padlocked.  

They definitely didn’t want her stripping ‘naked.’

Mindy said she was in a “Level 2A Restraint Package.  It holds your arms and hands securely but leaves all your fun bits open for play.”  

Alex couldn’t understand the purpose of the locks; it wasn’t like she could just wiggle her way free of her restraints even if they weren’t locked.  And if she achieved that impossible task she had nowhere to go; every moment spent outside her cell Alex was watched, either by a hostess or a security guard. Often both at the same time.  She was led by a leash from place to place and then chained down so she couldn’t run. Even in her cell she was locked to the floor by a chain leading from her collar to a metal ring in the floor.  Alex could feel the constant, total control grinding down her spirit and clouding her thoughts. Her life before the Arcade, which had ended just a few days ago, was already starting to feel like a dream.

The door to the dungeon swung open at an unseen command, with the sound of rusty hinges filling the air.  The door itself looked immaculately clean and new to Alex; the noise of the hinges must be coming from a speaker hidden out of view.  She stood for a moment at the threshold of the dungeon, nervously eyeing the fearful-looking instruments of torture and bondage inside.  

“In we go, little pet.”  

Mindy accompanied her command with several light tappings of a riding crop on Alex’s bare ass.  Mindy was dressed in skin-tight black leather pants and a leather bra with a black dominatrix hat on top of her ponytailed hair.  She had been dressed that way when she arrived at Alex’s cell that morning and Alex had taken one look at the stern S&M Mistress in front of her and felt a pit open in her stomach.  It was going to be a long,  _ long _ day.  

Alex stepped into the room, nervous but resigned, stifling a sigh as she moved.  She’d quickly learned that any type of resistance, or bad attitude, would be swiftly and painfully punished.   

“Head for the spanking bench.”  Mindy pointed with the crop at a padded leather bench festooned with straps.  

“Wait . . . but, why!?  I didn’t do anything wrong.”  Alex’s eyes were wide with fear.  She’d been given a punishment session on a spanking bench just two days before when she was caught trying to hide a paperclip in her hair.  Mindy had used a single-tail whip and Alex’s buttocks and thighs still held the faded bruises from the beating. She never wanted to go through that much pain again.  

Mindy gave two more taps with her riding crop, hitting hard enough to leave faint red marks behind.  “Who says you did? But the script says we start with a spanking and that’s what we’re going to do.” There was another slap of the crop, Alex giving a little scream this time.  “And you’re supposed to call me Mistress, little pet.” 

“Y-yes, Mistress.”  Alex quickly stumbled towards the spanking bench before her panicked mind caught up to what Mindy had said.  

“Script?  What script?”  She gave a small gasp and quickly yelled, “Mistress!  What script, Mistress?”

Mindy smiled at the hasty correction.  “For the video, pet. I guess I forgot to mention we’re shooting a video that will go on sale after your auction.  The Arcade is always looking for ways to boost our revenue.”

Alex now stood at the spanking bench, designed for someone to straddle the padded center, face down, and then be secured with padded leather straps.  Mindy patted the bondage device with her hand. “Up we go, little Alex. Time to get those cheeks nice and red.” She slapped the crop down on the bench with a sharp  _ crack _ .

“Mistress . . . please, I’ve been a good pet.  I’ve done everything you wanted me to do.” 

Alex couldn’t meet Mindy’s eye as she felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the memories of what they had done together.  Two days ago, before she had found the hidden paper clip, Mindy had used a vibrator on Alex during her morning cleaning. Alex had tried to resist at first, mortified at being treated that way in the public showers with no privacy to be found.  But her resistance had been quickly overcome by the pleasurable vibrations from Mindy’s sex toy. Her entire mind had been concerned with nothing but satisfying the demands of her raging libido. Mindy’s hand had done little to muffle Alex’s scream during the resulting orgasm.  

Afterwards Alex had been terrified at her loss of control; she’d never felt anything that intense before.  It almost felt like she was letting her friends down by enjoying anything being done to her, as if her own body had betrayed her.  

Mindy had used Alex’s tongue to return the favor last night, both of them inside Alex’s tiny cell, Alex on her knees, hands cuffed behind her back and her head buried between Mindy’s thighs as Mindy lay back on Alex’s cot.  Afterwards Mindy had whispered promises of even more debauchery to come; as long as Alex remained an obedient and submissive ‘pet’ to Mindy. 

Alex had wanted to scream her defiance but instead stayed quiet - just like Mindy wanted.  She told herself it was only to avoid punishment, to lull her captors into trusting her but Alex had to wonder if that was true.  

“Yes.  You have been good, pet,” Mindy said, running her nails down Alex’s cheek.  “You’re going to keep doing everything I want you to do, if you know what’s good for you.  And right now, I want you to put that cute butt of yours on this bench.” Mindy slapped the crop down on the spanking bench again for emphasis.  

With no more protest, Alex climbed up and lay stomach down on the bench as Mindy pulled the straps tight against her body.  With the straps buckled, Mindy gave a sharp open-palm slap to Alex’s ass and set the riding crop aside. She then picked up a small paddle, covered in black leather and lightly stuffed with padding.  

“I’m going to start paddling and I want you to count after each one, Alex.  Do you understand?”

“How many, Mistress?”

_ Whack _

“It was going to be five, but who knows, now.  Do you understand my instructions, slave?”

Alex cringed from the pain radiating from Mindy’s blow, trying to stifle a sob.

“Yes, M-Mistress.”

Mindy shook her head as she drew her arm back for the first blow.

“You need to learn when to keep your head down and your mouth shut, Alex.  Let this little exercise be a lesson in teaching you self-restraint.”

_ Whack _

“One, Mistress!”

Mindy ran her hands over the red mark on Alex’s bottom and shook her head again.

“This is going to be an expensive lesson.”

_ WhackWhack _

“Two, Mistress!”

“No, pet.  That was two separate strokes.  Let’s start again.”

_ Whack _

Thinking back on the experience later, and Alex hated to admit it, but Mindy had been absolutely right.    

Some time and twenty-three strikes later the paddling was finally over.  Alex’s face was covered with tears and her ass and the backs of her thighs were an aching, throbbing mass.  

Mindy picked up a bottle of gel and began gently smearing it on the bruised parts of Alex’s body.  The gel had a numbing effect and smelled of antiseptics and alcohol.

“There now, little pet.  That’s all over with. We got all the footage we need for the spanking part of the video.  It’s time for the next scene.”

Mindy leaned down and licked the shell of Alex’s ear and purred as she said: “You’re going to like this next part a lot better.  Trust me. It’s time to go for a ride.” She kissed Alex’s cheek. 

Mindy quickly unbuckled Alex then helped her to stand.  She then opened a locker and removed a device that almost looked like a saddle made of black leather to Alex and set it on the floor.  An electrical cord was plugged into the wall and a remote was then plugged into the device. 

“Mistress . . . what is that thing?”  Alex felt a tingle of fear in her stomach and heat rising in her cheeks.  She was going to ‘ride’ that?

“This is a sybian, little Alex.  And it’s one of the handiest tools we have at the Arcade.  We make our own custom ones, with extra padding to make them super quiet.”

Mindy was speaking the truth.  A normal sybian could be loud enough to drown out the screams of anyone lucky - or unfortunate - enough to be riding one.  The custom ones made by the Arcade, however, put out an almost sub-audible bass rumble even on the highest vibration levels.  

“Have a seat, little Alex.”  Mindy gestured to the Sybian.  

Alex had an inkling of what was about to happen and hated the thought she would be recorded during the process.  Recorded so strangers could watch her debasement later on for their own sick pleasures. She stood still for a moment, unwilling to move but the memory of the pain just inflicted on her crushed any thoughts of disobedience.    

Every day since she’d woken in this hellish place she’d been faced with a choice of complying with her captors’ degrading and humiliating orders or being punished with almost unbearable pain.  She knew they were trying to break her spirit, to make her easier to control and manipulate. It was working. She could feel it working. But even knowing what they were doing she saw no way she could resist.

Alex walked to the sybian and kneeled down until she was resting on the vibrating pad.  Mindy buckled restraints to her ankles and then attached short chains to the restraints and hooked them to Alex’s bondage belt.  Two more short chains were fastened to small loops on the sybian and hooked to the bondage belt. Alex was now secured to the sybian and unable to stand up to escape its vibrations.  

Mindy closed her eyes and concentrated.

_ ‘Are you ready?’ _

_ ‘I’ve been ready.  It was a nice show with the paddle.’ _  The voice speaking to Mindy was Omega, a psychic who worked for the Arcade.

_ ‘I knew you’d like that.’ _  Mindy smiled, keeping her eyes closed.  Alex saw the smile and shivered.

_ ‘Start tweaking her when I start the sybian,’  _ Mindy continued.   _ ‘And don’t let her orgasm until I say so.’ _

_ ‘I’ve helped you before, Mindy.  Lord knows, I’ve seen you breaking in your new pets enough times to know what you want me to do.  And I’m expecting the usual payment for this.’ _

_ ‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you use her.  And you can play as rough as you like.’ _

_ ‘I always do.’ _

Mindy opened her eyes and turned her smile on Alex, her mouth filled with bright, white teeth.  Alex shivered again at the sight of it, wanting to look away but scared what would happen is she did.  Mindy held up the remote for the sybian and pressed a button.

Alex gasped as the device between her legs began to vibrate, a slow steady tingle that she could barely feel but one that still sent a jolt up her body.  Unknown to her, Omega also began psychically manipulating the pleasure centers of her brain, triggering a flow of endorphins. 

Mindy kneeled down behind Alex and wrapped her arms around her.  She gently squeezed and held the moaning girl helplessly bound to the vibrating sybian.  Several minutes passed and she held up the remote where Alex could see. 

“Let’s pump up the volume.”  Mindy gave a quick kiss to the cheek and pressed a button.

The vibration increased and Alex gasped again, louder and harder, as she began to unconsciously rock her hips back and forth on the sybian’s flat, ribbed vibrating pad. Her cheeks were flushed and she was trying to pull her arms from the straitjacket confining them.  Her breaths came quick and shallow as she panted, her mind almost overcome by the sensations flooding into her body.

“Do you want to continue, little pet?”

“Y-yes, ple-please.  More!” Alex gasped out between her moans.  

“Hmm.  How are you supposed to address me?”  Mindy gave a quick squeeze to Alex’s nipples.  

“M-m-mistress, p-please!  Please, oh please, pleasepleaseplease . . .”

“You poor thing.  A healthy young girl like you should have orgasmed already.  Maybe if I turn it up . . .” 

The vibrations from the sybian turned up another notch, Mindy feeling them through the floor in her knees.  

_ ‘Are you still there, Omega?’ _

_ ‘Of course.  I can practically smell the endorphins coming from your toy all the way from here.  The sensations coming from her are simply  _ exquisite _.  I’ll share them with you tonight.’ _

Omega could use her powers to experience another person’s memories and then implant those memories in someone else’s mind for a short period.  It was the primary reason she helped Mindy ‘train’ all of her new pets. 

“How was that, Alex?”

“Oh God, PLEASE!  How are you doing this!?”

Mindy licked the shell of Alex’s ear.  

“Trade secret, pet.  And you forgot to address me properly, again.”

She brought the sybian’s vibrations back down to its previous setting.

“No!  No, Mistress, please!”  

Alex was crying, tears flowing down her face born of a frustration that almost bordered on pain.  She bent down until her stomach was almost touching the sybian, desperate to increase the friction against the vibrations between her legs.  

Mindy grabbed Alex’s hair and brutally yanked her back up.  Alex barely noticed the pain in her scalp. 

“Sit up straight, Alex.”

“Please, Mistress!  More!”

Mindy laughed and kissed Alex on the cheek.  

“I think we’ll just relax like this for a little while.  You must be tired from the paddling.” 

Mindy set the remote on the floor and wrapped her arms around Alex, resting her chin on on Alex’s right shoulder.  She began to softly run her fingers up and down Alex’s skin, occasionally pinching or scratching a random piece of anatomy.  

“Nooooooo. . . .”  Alex’s cry broke off into sobbing.  All of her previous fears had fled - embarrassment at being paraded naked through the building, the thought of being recorded for others to watch, her fear at what was going to happen to herself and her friends - everything was ignored except for the incredible sensations flooding up from the vibrating seat between her legs and into her body.  

All a result of Omega’s expert psy-tweaking of her mind’s pleasure centers.  Omega could keep a person’s brain flooded with hormones and just on the brink of orgasm for hours, without that (un)fortunate person going over the edge.  A result of her many practice sessions with Mindy and her various pets and playthings. 

Not that Alex knew any of that.    

The proceedings continued with the sybian on a low setting, Mindy softly stroking the bound Alex - who was desperately begging her Mistress for release - for several minutes that stretched on for eternities.  

_ ‘I hate to interrupt this heart-warming bonding moment but I have to leave in ten minutes, Mindy.’ _

_ ‘But I wanted to keep this going for at least an hour!’ _

_ ‘Sorry, babe.  Just got an emergency call.’ _

_ ‘I’ve been planning this for weeks, just waiting for a new Subject to come along that I could grab.  I won’t get another first chance at this with Alex.’ _

_ ‘I know this is important to you, Mindy.  I’d delay if I could.’ _

_ ‘Life is so  _ unfair _ sometimes.’ _

With a sigh, Mindy squeezed Alex around the ribcage and lightly bit her ear.  

“Are you ready, little pet?”

“Oh yes, yesyesyes, please Mistress, pleasepleaseplease-”

Mindy picked up the remote and held it where Alex could see it.

_ ‘I’m about to turn the sybian to maximum.  Give her your best when I do, Omega.’ _

_ ‘Ready when you are.’ _

Alex was still crying, almost wild with being denied her release.  

“Do it!  Please, Mistress!”

“Here we go, pet.” 

Mindy’s finger hovered over the remote and waited . . . waited . . . waited . . .

“Please!  Please, Mistress!”

Every iota of Alex’s attention was concentrated on the remote held in front of her and the sweet promise it portended.  Mindy’s finger finally pressed down.

“Woops, I missed the button.”

Alex gave a despairing wail, the cry of a trapped animal without hope of rescue.  Mindy gave a quick laugh, licked Alex’s ear and  _ finally _ turned the sybian to maximum.  At the same time Omega tweaked the glands in Alex’s brain, sending a flood of endorphins roaring out.  

To Alex it was like a warm and wet bomb went off between her legs, a bomb that spread a warmth through her body.  She felt a few seconds of glorious ecstasy, more intense than anything she had ever felt before. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped forward, completely unconscious.  

“Are you all right, pet?”  

Mindy gave a short yank on Alex’s hair.  She lay limp and motionless, her breathing the only sign she was alive.  There was a faint smile on her face. 

_ ‘I think you might have overdone it a little, Omega.’ _

_ ‘I compensated for the short session with more intensity.  Your toy will be fine. Just give her a couple minutes to wake up.’ _

_ ‘Maybe you could give me that kind of intensity some time.’   _ Mindy’s mouth rose in a slight smile. 

_ ‘Next time I’m having trouble sleeping can I call you?’ _

Mindy’s mind was filled with an image of the event she’d just done with Alex.  But this time Mindy was the one bound and restrained on the sybian, begging for release.  Or trying to beg through the ball-gag buckled in her mouth. Omega stood in front of her holding the remote with a smug look, soaking in the desperate pleas for mercy while taunting her victim.  

“I’m sorry, what was that, Mindy?  I can’t understand you. Whenever you want me to finish you off just say so.  It’s been so long I thought you’d be ready to stop by now.”

From what Mindy knew of her friend, mercy was not something to be expected.  If that scene ever occurred in real life it would drag out for hours. She looked down at Alex and felt a quick tingle of fear.  

_ ‘That’s . . . not what I had in mind, exactly.’ _

_ ‘Such a pity.  We can talk about it more later.  Bye!’ _

Mindy shook off her worries about the psychic and began freeing Alex from the sybian.  She would give her a quick cleaning before Alex woke up and then it was on to the scheduled exercise session for the day.  

Minutes later Alex stirred and moaned.  She tried pulling her arms out of the strait-jacket several times before she remembered where she was.  

“Hey there, sleepy-head.  How do you feel?”

“I’m exhausted.  I feel lik-”

Mindy pinched one of Alex’s nipples.  

“That’s ‘I’m exhausted, Mistress.’  Never forget that, pet.”

Alex blanched and began to hastily stammer out an apology when Mindy interrupted.

“I want you to think about something; If you really didn’t want to be here, if you truly hated, deep down inside your mind, what was happening to you and your friends, would your body have reacted so strongly to what I just did to you?  Would you have enjoyed so much what I did to you if you hated being my pet?”

Alex froze for a moment unable to move.  She started to speak. 

Mindy rested her palm over Alex’s mouth.  “Don’t let your mouth get you into any more trouble today.  Just think about what I said. Now, it’s time for your exercise session.”

Alex looked down, biting her lip and on the verge of tears again.  She gave a meek nod of her head.

“Yes, Mistress,” Alex whispered.  

After a quick wipe down there followed a strenuous cardio exercise session that lasted for an hour.  Then followed a quick shower where Alex was cuffed to a wall and a brief lunch where Alex’s hands were cuffed behind her and she was forced to mash her face into a bowl of mush to eat.  The final part of her day involved simulating a blowjob on a dildo stuck to a wall until her jaw and neck muscles ached. By the time she was being chained to the floor in her cell, Alex was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open.  

“Have you thought about what I said, Alex?”  Alex was sitting on the cot that served as her bed while Mindy stood in the doorway to the cell. 

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.”  Mindy gave Alex a quick kiss to her forehead.  “Sleep well, little pet. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mistress?”

“What is it, Alex?”

“I have a question.”

“Make it quick or I’ll have to give you a sedative.  Subjects aren’t allowed to be awake past their scheduled sleep time.”

“My friends . . . can I see them?”

“You won’t get to see them for a while longer.  Not until right before you three are to be sold at auction.  Those are the orders from the Founders themselves.” 

Mindy stroked her hand through Alex’s hair.  

“I got to see the advertising for the auction.  You’re going to be the ‘sultry Latina,’ Sam is the ‘fiery redhead,’ and Clover was going to be the ‘blonde bimbo.’”

“Was?  What do you mean by was?”

“She gets to be ‘The Example,’ now.”

Alex felt goosebumps rising on her arms.  

“The Example?”

Mindy ignored the question and pulled several items from her pocket.  She put on a set of latex gloves and then used an alcohol wipe to clean a spot on Alex’s arm.  Alex didn’t resist. 

“It’s your bedtime, Alex.  Don’t worry about your friend, you’ll learn what I mean soon enough.”  Mindy took a syringe filled with a clear liquid and injected the contents into a vein on Alex’s arm.  

“Nighty-night.”  

Alex lay down and closed her eyes as darkness swallowed her.  

Mindy was humming a tuneless melody as she entered her apartment later that night, feeling very pleased with the day’s events.  Her usual routine with the sybian had been much shorter than normal, but she thought Alex had learned the proper lesson from it. 

It was Alex’s begging and pleading that Mindy was thinking about when she entered her bedroom with a smile plastered on her face when she suddenly stopped.  There was a black box sitting on the floor, a box that hadn’t been there when she left in the morning. The top of the box was open and she saw some type of black fabric inside.  

She cautiously moved forward and looked, picking up one the black fabric.  It was a boleo strait-jacket, just like the one that had been used to hold Alex.  With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Mindy saw that the other object was a sybian that looked identical to the one she had just used earlier.  

“I thought I’d let myself in and bring some of my new toys over to show you.”

Mindy turned towards the voice and saw Omega standing in the doorway to the bedroom, twirling a red ball-gag around a finger.     


“Omega.  T-thanks for your help, today.”  Mindy gave her best attempt at a seductive smile.  “I was about to grab a shower . . . maybe you can join me?”

Omega gave a short, barking laugh.  “We’ll shower together after. Take off your clothes and start putting on the strait-jacket while I plug in the sybian.”

Mindy thought about running or attempting to hit the security alarm every hostess carried on them or even just screaming for help.  

“You know none of that will help, Mindy.”  Omega’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head slightly as she glared at Mindy.  “Don’t make me get angry with you, little girl.”

Without another word Mindy began pulling off her clothes.  This was going to be a long,  _ long  _ night.     
  



	5. Chapter 5

The woman sat naked and shivering in a cold metallic chair staring in absolute terror at the even colder gaze of the Founders. Her arms and legs were immobilized by thickly padded leather straps and a soft rubber ball-gag filled her mouth, muffling whatever useless pleas she might have been making.  Her head was secured to a brace connected to the chair, a thick strap across her forehead keeping her gaze pointed straight ahead. 

_ ‘My brother and I have read all of the reports and seen all the evidence,’  _ one of the Founders said.  Their v-shaped mouths - filled with red gums and needle-like teeth - did not move when they ‘talked.’  Instead they psychically projected their voice inside the mind of whatever unlucky person they were talking to. __

_ ‘The investigative team did a very thorough job, as usual.  But we decided we needed to see the events from a first-person perspective before we rendered our judgement.’ _

_ ‘That’s why we politely asked you to meet us here, Candy.  Thank you for doing so,’  _ the other Founder continued.  Both Founders looked identical, wearing suits that were exactly the same except for the color of their ties; one red and one blue.  Blue Tie had just spoken. 

_ ‘I hope it’s not too much trouble,’  _ Blue Tie continued.   _ ‘We just need to pick at your brain a little bit, so to speak.  I’d say you won’t feel a thing but that would be nothing but a bald-faced lie.’   _ Big needle-teeth smile.  

The woman, Candy, was screaming into her gag, the pleas turned into indecipherable grunts.  She looked up at the Founders as best she could, trying her best to beg with her eyes. Candy had been asked to report to a supervisor’s office to give a statement regarding her treatment of a new Subject and the current condition of that Subject.  As soon as she arrived she had been tackled by a swarm of security guards and drugged so she couldn’t move her body. Her mind, however, was unaffected and she was completely aware of everything happening to her. 

Her clothes had been roughly cut away and her nude body was unceremoniously dumped on a gurney to be wheeled to a new room and a restraint chair.  She had been strapped down and gagged, then left alone to wait, unable to move or speak, with no idea what fate was in store for her. Candy had been waiting in the cold room for hours before the Founders entered and told her what was about to happen.

_ ‘Now, now.  No reason to be so upset.’   _ Red Tie held up an over-long finger tipped with a claw and wagged it at the woman.   _ ‘It will all be over in a moment.  Or maybe an eternity. Time flows in strange directions when we’re mucking around people’s minds.’ _

Each Founder reached out and laid a palm on the woman’s forehead.  She felt a cold coming from the Founder’s skin like glacial ice; so intense it almost burned.  Then a bolt of energy, sudden and shocking, and consciousness faded away into an all-consuming darkness that lasted for a moment that stretched into an inestimable epoch or a single second.  

_ ‘And God said “Let There Be Light.”’ _

There was a flash of light in front of Candy’s non-existent eyes, so bright and painful she tried to squint, look away or shield her view with non-existent hands and arms that she couldn’t move.  In front of her was a young girl, eighteen or nineteen, with blonde hair and strapped naked to a chair much like Candy was herself.

_ ‘Ahh, the young Miss Clover.  Such a lovely, lovely girl. You were besmitten with her from the moment you lay eyes on her tender, nubile flesh, weren’t you Candy?  And who could blame you?’  _

_ ‘Clover’s attitude presented quite the problem, however.  But you like problems like that don’t you. Like them a very great deal.’ _

Candy was now unwillingly reliving her interrogation of Clover on Clover’s first day in the Sex Arcade.  She saw her own hand reach out and jab an electric prod into Clover’s leg in response to a curse from Clover.  Then she saw it again. And again. And again and again and again . . . By the time the interrogation was over Clover’s legs were a minefield of angry red burn marks.  

Candy was angry and frustrated, her desire for the newly kidnapped girl smothered by irritation at Clover’s vulgar defiance.  But she was also thrilled at the thought of being able to punish Clover, for being the one who broke that defiant spirit and crushed it under her heel.  

_ ‘Yes, Clover was exactly the kind of problem you liked.  And you went about solving this particular problem with gusto!’ _

The sight of Clover strapped naked to a chair melted away like hot wax, as if reality itself were melting into nothingness.  Candy screamed in terror with a mouth that didn’t exist until a new image appeared. Now, Clover stood in a shower stall with her hands chained to a ring above her head, still nude with the exception of the metal collar that all new Subjects were given after their initial interrogation.  Clover was looking over her shoulder, cursing at Candy standing behind her. 

Several hostesses were trying to scrub the resistant teen but Clover kept shoving and kicking at anyone who got close.  A judicious use of electric prods seemed to have no effect on her defiance. 

_ ‘Here is where Clover crossed the line.  She went from merely being an irritant, a slight bruise on your ego, to an outright threat to your professional reputation.  If a little blonde teenager could keep you from doing your job what use were you to the Arcade?’ _

Candy left the shower stall and came back with a small black whip.  She cracked it near Clover’s ear and smiled as Clover flinched away from the noise.  The smile was wiped away as the stream of profanity from Clover quickly resumed. Candy drew the whip back and struck out with it, this time landing a series of blows on Clover’s thighs and buttocks.  Clover screamed in pain, the lashing leaving red lines that trailed thin lines of blood down her body. 

_ ‘You knew that was against the rules.’ _  Even though Candy could not see him she sensed the Founder disapprovingly wagging his finger at her.   _ ‘You could have just tranquilised the girl and moved on from there.  But you let your pride get in the way of your intellect. Never a good idea.’ _

The scene shifted again, this time showing Candy trying to get Clover to eat her first meal of tasteless gruel after she had been scrubbed clean.  Clover was chained to a metal table, seated on a metal stool with her hands cuffed behind her back. Clover grabbed the bowl with her teeth and flung it away, its contents splattering everyone around her.  Candy slapped her and grabbed a glass of water, her other hand yanking at Clover’s hair, then jamming the glass against Clover’s lips trying to force her to drink. Clover took a sip, only to spit it back out in Candy’s face.  A hostess had to quickly step in to prevent Candy from beating Clover with the glass. 

Another shift.  This time they were in an exercise area for the Subjects.  Clover was on the floor, curled up defensively, her collar chained to a ring set into the floor to keep her from escaping.  Candy jabbed Clover over and over again with an electric prod but Clover refused to move, refused to exercise, refused to stop cursing at her captors.  Candy raised her arm, holding the prod like a slim metal club ready to deliver a severe beating but she was stopped again before she could strike.

_ ‘Such defiance!  We haven’t seen a girl this stubborn since . . . well I don’t believe we’ve ever had a girl this stubborn.  I can understand your frustration, Candy. But you know our saying; There’s No Cruising For A Bruising - you gotta Rape ‘Em to Break ‘Em.  You could have run a train on her with a group of hostesses for a few hours to temper that wild spirit of hers. Clover wasn’t even a virgin so there was no issue there.’     _

_ ‘No issue for anyone but Candy, dear brother.  She wanted to be Clover’s first here at the Arcade and her pride wouldn’t allow her to back down, no matter how far things went.  She was going to break Clover or die trying.’ _

_ ‘And so poor Clover was sent to the Box.  There she would be free to contemplate her bad behavior and her future employment at the Arcade free from pesky distractions like light, sound or the ability to move.  For a such an outgoing young woman like Clover, the Box would represent quite the challenge.’ _

Another scene shift.  A black box sat on a table in one of the Arcade’s medical centers.  The box had the same shape and dimensions as a coffin; not surprisingly since both items were meant to hold a single human body.  Tubes containing IV fluid and fresh air ran into the Box and tubes to remove wastes ran out. The inside of the Box was heavily padded and sound-proofed, making it quiet as a tomb and blacker than midnight inside.  A profusion of leather straps restrained the occupant of the Box, pinning their body at the ankles, calves, thighs, waist, chest, wrists, biceps, throat and forehead. When the last buckle was pulled tight and fastened the occupant was left unable to move a single muscle.  The tubes in the Box ran in and out of holes with carefully designed O-rings to keep any light from leaking past them. After all necessary procedures were completed the Box could sustain an occupant placed inside almost indefinitely in an adequate physical condition. 

The occupant’s mental condition was another matter entirely.

Clover was currently restrained inside the Box, as she had been for the last three days.  Orderlies had carefully monitored her the whole time, watching her through tiny cameras and listening through microphones scattered inside the interior of the Box.  Candy was present in the med center, languidly reclining in a chair with a smirk of smug triumph on her lips, as she watched a video feed of Clover’s face. 

Clover had not been told exactly how long she would be spending inside for  punishment. Candy had simply said if the Box failed to evince a positive change in attitude, then Clover could be kept inside forever and used as an example for other unruly Subjects about the consequences of disobedience.  

Most Subjects placed inside the Box could last only an hour or less before finding the unending darkness and silence unbearable.  They would begin screaming and begging, futility struggling against the straps holding them down, promising anything to escape the lightless damnation they had been condemned to.  

Clover had gone a full twenty-four hours without making a sound - a Sex Arcade record.  

The Arcade had no ribbon, trophy or plaque available for this circumstance; the only reward they had to give Clover for her record setting achievement was more time inside the Box.  

It was on the second day that Clover began to crack.  At first she was making wordless noises to fill the silence inside her tomb, nothing but wordless humming and whistling. Next she began singing her favorite songs, tapping her fingers - the only part of her body not strapped down - in tune with the imagined rhythm.  This lasted a few hours before the crying began. Clover continued singing through her tears and sobs until, finally, the dam of her resistance had crumpled completely. The singing stopped, replaced by Clover pleading and screaming to be let out of the box, promising to be the ‘good girl’ that Candy had demanded she be. 

When Candy had been informed of Clover’s improved attitude, she merely smiled and instructed that the newly reformed Subject be given one more day inside the Box, ‘Just to be sure she’s not lying.’

_ ‘You were certainly riding a thin line, Candy.  Three days is the absolute maximum a Subject can be placed inside the Box without our approval.  And that’s usually reserved for escapees and multiple infractions of the rules. It’s never been done to a newcomer like Clover.’ _

On the third day of Clover’s time inside the penalty Box-

_ ‘Really, brother, enough with the frivolities.  This is serious business we’re discussing!’ _

_ ‘I’ll try and keep things to a minimum.’ _

On the third day of Clover’s opportunity to ponder her misbehaviour-

_ *sigh* _

Candy visited the Box on Clover’s third day inside.  She spent an hour watching a close-up of Clover’s face, kicked back in a chair, her feet propped up on a table with a satisfied smile stuck to her face.  Candy threw on headphones and listened to the pleas coming from Clover, which were growing less and less intelligible as her time inside the Box grew longer with no sign of the darkness ever ending.  

“I promise I’ll be-be-be a good girlgirlgirl.  I will, yes I will-will I WILL. Please I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be a good Subject.  Please-ease-ease please let me out, please, I’llbegoodIPROMISE LETMEOUTLETMEOUT-”

Several minutes of sobbing followed this outburst.  

“I’ll be good Candy I will, I promise, please, God pleasepleaseplease let me outoutout I’ll do anything you want I will oh God I will I’m sorry I was bad I’ll be good oh God why is this happening to meeeeeEEEEE-”

_ ‘And here we arrive at the fulcrum of this whole series of events.  Poor young Clover’s mind was not in good shape after this much time in the Box.  It was balanced on the thin precipice of madness just waiting for the slightest push to go tumbling over the edge.’ _

_ ‘Just like that fat bastard Humpty Dumpty and his stupid little wall.’ _

Candy grabbed a microphone and walked over to rest her arm on the Box, idly tapping a staccato rhythm on the lid.  She pressed a button and her voice was now being broadcast inside the Box.

“Hey there, sweet pea.”  

Clover’s ranting immediately stopped.  

“C-Candy?  Is that really you?”  There was a moment of silence followed by ragged breathing.  Candy held her tongue, dragging out the silence. “Oh God, please tell me that’s you, pleasepleasepleas-”

“It sure is, honeybun!  I’ve been listening to you for a while now.  Boy, your attitude is a whole lot different than it used to be.”

“I’m sorry, Candy.  I’m sorry for how bad I was.  Please let me out, please God, please.  I’ll behave now. I  _ will,  _ I promise.”  Clover sobbed.

“It’s not just a matter of behaving, sweet pea.  I gotta be sure you’re going to be an all around well-behaved Subject.  Are you going to take your training seriously?”

“Y-yes, yes, I will, I will, I promise!  Please let me out, PLEASE-

“Are you going to do your best to keep our clients happy?  These men pay good money to have a fun time with you. The clients have an expectation for quality service and don’t like it when their playdate is sassing them when they’re trying to get romantic.”

“I’ll do anything, anything,  _ anything _ .”  She cried for a moment.  “ANYTHING with anyone, I promise, just let me out PLEEASSE-

“What about me and you?  The Hostesses get to pick their own personal pets from the Subjects and I’ve had my eye on you.  You’re not going to back-talk me or sass me any when we’re together?

“N-no, Candy.  I’ll be a good pet, very, very good, I  _ will,  _ I swear to God.  I’ll obey. I’ll do anything you want.”  Clover’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please let me out.”

“Hmmm, you do sound sincere.”  Candy waited and let a minute pass without speaking, her fingers still tapping on the Box’s lid as she thought.  She turned away and walked a few steps thinking about what to do. She gave a big smile and turned back to the Box.  

“I’m gonna give you another day to think things over.  Just to make sure you’re certain about what you said. I wouldn’t want to force you into anything you wouldn’t want to do.  See you tomorrow, sweet pea!” Candy left the medcenter.

Clover’s response was several minutes of screaming that trailed off into sobbing and eventually a disjointed, cackling laughter as her sanity finally cracked under the smothering darkness.  

_ “And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men can’t put Humpty Dumpty’s shattered psyche together again.  I’m very disappointed in you, Candy.’ _

The scene in the medcenter faded and Candy found herself once again strapped naked to a chair with the Founders looming angrily above her.  

_ ‘I think we’ve seen everything we need to see.  I’m ready to pass judgement.’ _

_ ‘As am I.’ _

_ ‘Hostess Candy, you have violated our regulations on treatment of new Subjects and thereby deprived us of a valuable asset that was shortly going to be up for auction.  I trust you understand how badly you have behaved in this whole matter.’ _

Candy sat in the chair, her gag causing long rivulets of drool to run down her chin and drip onto her chest.  She was screaming and begging as best she could but all that could be heard were inarticulate grunts. The Founders could read the plea straight from her mind and were pleased at the terror they saw in their employee’s thoughts.

At some unseen signal, security guards entered the room, six in total and took up position around Candy.  One of them held an electric prod - the same kind Candy had used on Clover - and gave it two quick buzzes right in front of Candy’s eyes.  The smell of ozone and the heat from the sparks filled her nostrils. 

_ ‘We hereby strip you of your status as a Hostess and condemn you to serve the Arcade as a Probate until such time as we deem you fit to return to service.’ _

_ ‘You will begin your duty as Probate by spending five days serving on the Wall of Fun, 12 hours each day.  This will begin immediately.’ _

Candy closed her eyes and cried as the guards released her from the chair, yanking her to her feet, her legs and arms painfully cramped from so much time spent immobile, and handcuffed her hands behind her back.  A leather collar was quickly buckled to her neck and she was led out of the room on a leash pulled by one of the guards. 

_ ‘Well, that’s dealt with.  Now onto other things. I believe we have a meeting with Billy Bob up next.’ _

_ ‘Yes we do.  BTW, where is poor Clover right now?’ _

_ ‘I was told she’s still in the medcenter.  And did you just say the initials for ‘by the way?’’ _

_ ‘It’s something I wanted to try.  Speaking the way these meatbags text each other.  Wait . . . Clover’s not still inside the Box, is she?’ _

_ ‘I . . . hmm.  Well, I must admit I don’t know.  I certainly hope not! I just assumed she’d been removed at the three day mark since we had not given permission for a longer stay.  It’s been almost six days since she was first put in there. She’d have to be a complete vegetable by now.’ _

_ ‘We should probably look into this.’ _

The Founder shrugged.   _ ‘Wherever she is right now, Clover will keep.  Let’s deal with our immediate business and then check on her.’ _


End file.
